


My Bedroom, Two AM

by AndreaEssEmm



Series: I Am Going to Tell You a Secret [2]
Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Blow Jobs, Confessional, Down and Dirty Sex, Erotica, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fuckbuddies, Fucking, Graphic Description, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, POV Original Character, Personal Experiences, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-11 16:21:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20156497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaEssEmm/pseuds/AndreaEssEmm
Summary: In which I ruminate on how I used to sneak a fuck buddy into the apartment I once shared with my mom.





	My Bedroom, Two AM

When I was in my early twenties and still living in a two-bedroom apartment with my mom, I would occasionally sneak Jeff, my former high school crush, into my bedroom and have sex with him while my mom was asleep in her bedroom, on the other side of the wall. Sometimes I wonder if I had a death wish.

It would usually happen late on Friday or Saturday nights, and I would usually be lying in bed watching a _Mystery Science Theater 3000_ episode on DVD, when my phone would ping from its place atop a pile of books on my desk. It was always within easy reach.

And it was always Jeff texting me with one of his smooth lines: "Hey babe. You up?" I mean, no self-respecting lady can resist a come-on like that. My panties are dropping right now!

"Yeah. Why?" I text back. I knew why.

"I'm about to leave the bar, and I'm nearby. Want some company?" Jeff asks. This is practically his version of the Bat Signal for "I'm horny, let's fuck." I never said he was subtle.

Hell, it's been awhile, and I'm game. "Text me when you're here," I say, and then I pause my movie so I can have a mini panic attack about how I'm going to fuck him while my mom is sawing logs on the other side of my bedroom wall. Will this finally be the time she catches me? I usually keep my door cracked so the cats can go in and out, so would she get up to use the bathroom, notice it's closed, and then ask me about it the next day?

The thing about Jeff was that for the first two years of high school, I was deeply in love with him. I adored him. I wrote poetry dedicated to his beady brown eyes, his scrawny limbs, and his snaggle teeth. I would spend hours writing journal entry upon journal entry ruminating over the fact that I wanted him to date me, fuck me hard, or just return my feelings. Yikes.

We met in freshman drama class, and somewhere towards the end of that first year, we had made a half-assed pact to lose our virginities to one another. To this day, I have no idea what prompted this. I know for a fact that he lost his to me during a regretful hook-up our senior year, but he certainly wasn't my first.

Oh, we never dated, either. Jeff was well-aware of my lust for him, but he made it a point to keep me on standby for when he was between bimbo girlfriends. He knew I'd always be around, and sadly, he wasn't wrong. I mean, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? That's not to say that I regret everything- because I don't- but I wish it wouldn't have taken me so long to realize that the world didn't revolve around Jeff's decently-sized dick.

We used to chat on AIM alot when we were in high school, and I once asked him during one of our late-night conversations what it was that he liked about me. Jeff's response: "You have good taste in music, you read, and you like old movies. You're also a good friend." Those are things that everybody tended to say about me at that time, but did he know who my favorite band was? Which celebrity I had a teenage crush on? Which book I swore was my personal bible? What my favorite movie was?

No, he really didn't.

(And for those playing along at home, the answers to those questions are as follows: Garbage, 1960s Mike Nesmith, _The Catcher in the Rye_, and 1932's _I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang_. These answers have changed off and on throughout the ensuing years.)

My parents announced their separation when I was seventeen, and I recall e-mailing Jeff and telling him that if he wanted to be my friend, now was his time to shine. His radio silence was deafening, and its echo took forever to fade out. I mean, why say I'm a great friend when you can't even be one to me?

And I've just realized that I've gotten way off track, and you're probably bored now, but I'm sure you have questions, so I'll answer one more. Why did I continue to hook up with Jeff long after high school had ended? Because I was single, horny, and no longer had a romantic interest in him. Our alliance was unholy and perverse; we were just using one another to get off, and we both knew it.

But anyway, after letting Jeff into the building, and sneaking him into my room, we're finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, and enjoy each other's bodies for the next hour. We stare each other down for a moment, I ask him how much he's had to drink, and he tells me that it looks as if I've lost weight. Small talk, really.

Then I kiss him hotly because as you know, I love kissing while I'm having sex, and I've been told by a few lovers that I'm pretty good at it. Jeff responds politely to my advances, though I know he's not too interested in just making out with me. Once we've finally stripped down, and Jeff has me suck his cock for a little bit (but God forbid he goes down on me), he rolls a condom down his shaft, and bends me over my bed.

_Okay, I guess that's how we're gonna do this_, I think to myself. Naturally, I moan when he rams his dick inside me. It doesn't hurt, but it's not exactly gentle, either. Or sexy. It's the kind of sex you have with someone who has been drinking, and you know you're gonna have to tell him to chill when he starts to get carried away. I know I'll be sore and carry bruises on me the next day, but between you and me, I enjoy that.

"You like that, baby?" Jeff asks as he starts pumping in and out of me.

"Mmm..." I hum, rolling my eyes. I'm aroused, but I'm definitely not touching myself yet, and I'm sure I look like one of those Halloween cats with its back arched completely in the air. I finally tell Jeff that the angle isn't doing much for me, and he agrees that I should ride him instead.

He reclines back on my bed, and I position myself over him, his cock filling me so completely, the sensation of it momentarily shocks me. Jeff moans softly like it's the best fucking thing he's ever felt, and it'd better be because this pussy stays tight. I start rocking my hips, setting the pace, and I'm silently grateful that I had the bright idea to remove my bed's squeaky brass headboard when I'd moved in. Can you imagine my mom waking up because the headboard kept knocking against the wall? Embarrassing!

I continue rocking back and forth on Jeff's cock, his hands holding onto my hips, his fingers tracing the outline of the ornate cross that's tattooed inside my left hip. "Is this new?" he asks.

I laugh because I'd gotten it done between hook-ups, and clearly, it's been awhile since I've had Jeff in my bed. "Yes," I reply, "now shut up while I get mine." By this time, Jeff has started a perfect counter-rhythm to my rocking, and his dick is hitting me perfectly. He's deep, and his girth fills me just right. I move my hand down to my cunt and start rubbing my swollen clit.

"Oh my God," Jeff breathes. "I fucking love it when you touch yourself in front of me. You're _so_ sexy when you do that."

"Shhh," I say. "I'm getting close." But his little revelation has helped to turn me on even more. I ride him harder, and I wonder if he can see the flush of arousal on my chest in the blue light of my TV. If he can feel the way my thighs are starting to tremble. Can he smell the tangy wetness of my cunt?

I feel myself start to tighten and clench around him, and finally, I break. It's like a floodgate opening up, I can feel my cunt quiver and spasm, my spine tingle. With this heady sensation, I can feel my stress momentarily leave me, and whatever panic I'd had about sneaking Jeff into the apartment has been replaced with the feeling of perfect satisfaction. I quietly gasp and moan his name, though I don't recall if I did that for his benefit or because I momentarily felt so close to him. It doesn't matter; when I cum, I'm a golden goddess perched atop her winged horse. I am tall, bright, and lit with fury. I'm taking no prisoners.

I've just slid into the aftershock part of my orgasm when Jeff tells me he's nearly ready to cum, and that he wants to shoot it all over my tits. I roll my eyes, but hey, if that's what does it for him, then I'm amenable.

I dismount and kneel on the floor at Jeff's feet. He pulls off the condom and asks me to blow him again. I suck him into my mouth, and try not to grimace at the clinical taste of latex and lube that lingers on his cock. I stroke him in time with my sucking, swirling my tongue around the head, getting it nice and wet. I feel Jeff's balls tighten as I caress them and I notice the muscles in his thighs start to flex. I pull off and stroke him through his orgasm, his cum spurting out and landing on my chest and tits. I really appreciate him not groaning loudly.

"Oh, shit!" Jeff gasps. "That was so good. I love cumming on your tits."

"Yeah, it's hot," I gamely reply, wiping myself off with some tissues. I'm not the biggest fan of having a guy cum on me, but given the option between him doing it in my mouth or on my tits, I'll opt for on my tits.

I stand up and start pulling my pajamas back on while Jeff redresses himself. We don't say much before I quietly sneak him back out of the apartment. There's no need; the act is quick and does not linger. We are not the kind of fuck buddies to dissect what we've done together, and question whether or not it was enjoyed. (It was.)

When Jeff texts me again a few months later, it's after one AM on a Saturday night, and I turn him down so I can continue watching the old episode of _Star Trek_ that Channel 8 is airing. Sorry, Jeff, but you're expendable, and I'm the only one coming back from this landing mission.


End file.
